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Sunday, October 11, 2015

Last night, I took my ten-year-old son to see the PG-13 rated movie The Martian.
We had just been reading the book, and were thrilled to see something
so full of science and math and innovation come to the big screen. We
put on our 3D glasses, snuggled into our plush recliner seats with
popcorn and got ready for a fun ride. Instead, I was horrified as my
child was subjected to the blood-soaked previews of three movies that
were nothing but guns, guns, guns—and all of them to be released on
Christmas Day. And why is it that the studios will release these bloody
films on Christmas Day? Because they’ve done the research. They know
that even though we scream and yell at Congress with outrage after every
mass shooting, school shooting and theater shooting, moviegoers will
still pay big bucks to sit in a theater and accept this gory violence as
holiday entertainment, right after having slipped “Call of Duty” and
“Grand Theft Auto” into their kids’ stockings.

Hollywood gets no pass here, either. While major
studios have weighed in on war and politics and racism and every other
societal ill, they continually perpetuate and glorify gun violence and
vigilantism, even while their fans are gunned down in theaters. But are
we boycotting? No. They dish it out and we keep on buying it.

I am an activist. I have had four incidences of gun
violence affect my life. My little brother, at seven years old, was shot
in the head by a troubled teenager down the street, and has had to live
with the fallout of traumatic brain injury and PTSD. My best friend was
shot five times by the father of her children, and lives with a body
full of shrapnel. At fourteen years old, I witnessed my neighbor commit
suicide by gun right in front of my house. Two years ago, my husband’s
childhood best friend, a police officer, was shot and killed in the line
of duty, along with his partner, by a maniac wielding an assault rifle.
I do not live in a third world country. I didn’t grow up in Afghanistan
or Somalia. I grew up in the very suburban San Fernando Valley in
California. But I am not sheltered. I don’t have the luxury of thinking
that gun violence is something that happens to other people. I know it
can happen to any one at any time, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

After every shooting, I watch the news, the talking
heads, the politicians who make their media appearances and send their
“thoughts and prayers” tweets out, and still nothing gets done because
we all sit comfy in our homes, pointing the finger of blame at them. But
while we are pointing our fingers at Congress, there are three fingers
pointing back at ourselves. If we were so upset about Sandy Hook, why
didn’t we show up at the polls to vote out those NRA-backed politicians?
Last year our voter turnout for midterm elections was the lowest in
seventy years, and most of those who showed up to vote were
conservatives who favor gun rights. As a result, we got more NRA-backed
politicians voted in to office.

Every week, my friends post articles and memes
decrying the horrors of American gun violence. In response, I post
simple things they can do to prevent gun violence, like signing a
petition or making a 1-minute call to Congress. But these action posts
get little to no comments, very few clicks, and almost no shares. The
truth is that as 33,000 people are dying every year from gun violence,
very few Americans take any action at all.

We’ve gotten lazy, America. If Martin Luther King
were alive during this generation, and the civil rights movement were
happening right now, would you show up to march, or would you just
“like” his facebook call to action, repost a few memes, express your
outrage about racism in a tweet or facebook post, and call it activism?
Congress didn’t make change happen during the Civil Rights Movement. The
people did. Where are the people today?

For far too long, the work of gun violence prevention
has been on the shoulders of the grieving parents of murdered children,
and those who have survived being shot. This is not their issue alone.
This is not an inner city issue. It’s not a racial issue or a
gang-related issue. Gun violence is an American issue, and if it hasn’t
touched you directly yet, unless we do something about it, it soon will.

Brave New Films recently did a PSA pointing out that
between 2001 and 2013, over 400,000 people have been killed due to gun
violence. That’s equivalent to ten terrorist attacks EVERY YEAR. It’s
more than one hundred thirty-five 9/11’s. We are at war with ourselves,
and we are far more deadly than any terrorist. See video here:
https://www.facebook.com/bravenewfilms/videos/10153051431607016/

Are we okay with this? Are we going to accept this as “just the price we pay for our 2nd amendment rights”?

Albert Einstein said it himself: “The world is a
dangerous place to live; not because of the people who are evil, but
because of the people who refuse to do anything about it.”

TAKE ACTION:

Here are three simple actions you can take right now
to help prevent gun violence. You can click on one, or just keep
scrolling. It’s up to you.

Make sure your House Rep supports Universal
Background Checks on all gun sales! HR 3411 expands background checks on
all gun sales and stops criminals from getting guns online or at gun
shows. The list of co-sponsors for HR 3411 is here: http://ow.ly/T8rWC
. If your Representative is on the list, thank them. If not, remind
them that 90% of Americans support expanding background checks – and if
they don’t represent the people by supporting this bill, they don’t get
your vote.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

I am pro-family and pro-choice, and I stand with
Planned Parenthood. It’s reprehensible for the men of the Republican party to attempt to cut
health care funding for women. Many times throughout my life, when I was unable to obtain
health insurance, I have relied on Planned Parenthood for my medical
care.

I'll never forget the day Planned Parenthood gave me the
happy news that I was preggers with this beauty.

When
I was young and newly married, my ex-husband and I had our own
business. (Isn’t that the American dream, Republicans?) And
while we were building our dream, struggling financially and without
healthcare, I turned to Planned Parenthood for care. Planned Parenthood
was where I went for my first pregnancy test, and where I got the happy
news that I was carrying my daughter Cristen.

Planned parenthood is where I had my annual exams, where I got my birth control, and where I went when I had medical problems.

In
my late thirties, I would once again find myself without health
insurance, due to a pre-existing condition. (My
pre-existing condition? I had seen a therapist for depression and
anxiety after my house burned down.) Every insurance company
denied me, even after I appealed annually and wrote numerous letters.

I turned to Planned Parenthood for my annual checkups and breast exams during those six
long years that no one would insure me.

And
now, in a shrewd political move leading up to the Presidential campaigns, the House Republicans voted to cut funding to Planned Parenthood, claiming that tax-payers are funding abortions. Abortions are only 3% of the care that Planned
Parenthood provides, and taxpayer funds do not pay for them. But yes, Planned Parenthood does provide
abortions- and unless you are a woman who has been in the excruciating
situation of having to choose, you have no right to judge. (A very close friend of mine was raped at gun point and got pregnant with the rapist's child. Should she have been forced to be further violated by carrying the rapist's baby? Or should she have gone to court to prove the rape, so she could have had permission to have an abortion?)

Republicans: How is cutting
life-saving screenings for women all over this country "pro-life"?

If you are going to call yourself Pro-life, you ought to walk your talk.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Counting my blessings today for the wonderful readers and book clubs who have been supporting Fire Season since its launch in April. It's been a fun whirlwind- from events in Arizona and L.A. to radio events, a Huffington Post Live interview and a great night speaking at the American Red Cross Gala about fire safety ...whew!

Changing Hands Bookstore, Phoenix AZ

Barnes and Noble, The Grove, Los Angeles

This Sunday I'll be at BookStar in Studio City from 2 to 3pm, thanks to my good friend, the awesome bookmistress Lindy Michaels. I'll do a reading from Fire Season, then I'm open for Q and A, to talk about memoir, writing the scary truth, to alternatives in publishing...Meet me there and let's talk books!

After that I'm packing up my car, and heading up the beautiful Pacific Coast toward San Francisco.
Troy and Evan are coming with me because they love San Francisco, and
we have a #BucketList wish to ride our bikes across the Golden Gate
Bridge.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

In Stephen Bishop’s guest bathroom, there is a framed
rejection letter from Apple Records, saying that they found his compositions
“unsuitable” for their catalog.

When you exit the bathroom and walk down the hall, however,
you’ll see this -- walls lined with gold records that followed in the years
after that rejection letter, as well as Grammy nominations, and an Oscar
nomination for his song Separate Lives (performed by Phil Collins). Stephen has
performed on Saturday Night Live, the Midnight Special, and in concerts around
the world. In addition to his own top hits with “On and On” and “Save it For A
Rainy Day” (with Chaka Kahn) his songs have been performed by Phil Collins,
Eric Clapton, Barbra Streisand, Art Garfunkel, Steve Perry, Stephanie Mills,
Kenny Loggins, Johnny Mathis, Phoebe Snow, David Crosby, The Four Tops, and
Pavarotti. Apparently, his music was more than suitable.

I love that he framed this rejection letter for all his
guests to see. It made me want to do the same. Last week my book Fire Season received an ugly,
negative review on Amazon. Inspired by Stephen, I posted it on facebook for all to see. (Maybe I'll frame it, too.) Having just been in Bish's bathroom, I decided to laugh these negative words off. Just
because someone doesn’t understand your art, your music, your writing --
doesn’t mean your work has no value.

When I first started sending Fire Season out, my own agent,
at that time, passed on it. “It’s not a universal story. People won’t relate to
it,” she said.

Another agent said, “No one reads memoir. Memoir doesn’t sell.”

A publisher said, “You’re not a celebrity, we can’t take a
risk on it. Good luck, though.”

Just think, if every artist, writer, painter, poet,
musician, inventor, comic, etc. listened to the voices of the “critics,” there
would be no art in the world. No music. No books.

I believe every one of us should do our art, whatever form
it takes. Write. Paint. Act. Invent. Brainstorm. Build. People will tell you
it’s impractical, and a waste of money. People might think you are crazy, lazy,
or irresponsible. You might even say these things to yourself (the inner critic
is the worst). Do your art anyway. Do it, because it’s in you and no one else
can do it like you can. Do it for no other reason than the joy of doing it. Do
it, because in spite of the critics (who are most likely frustrated artists
lashing out at others), the world needs your unique fingerprint.

Frame your rejections, and put them on the wall. I agree
with Stephen, a bathroom is the most suitable place to hang it.

Friday, May 8, 2015

March was the month from hell. It really was. I started to
backslide into old negative belief patterns that I was unlucky, that this was
my fate – had always been my fate, that bad things just randomly happen to me,
etc…But then I stopped myself and said, “No, that is an old story. The new
story is that I am open to love and miracles.” Even though I did not really
believe this, I wrote it out, and posted it on my bathroom mirror. I looked at
it and recited it to myself every day, until I started to feel it. All I can
say is that if you make a commitment like this to yourself, buckle up.

April has been my month of dreams coming true. My book
release events, both in Phoenix and at Barnes and Noble in L.A., were beautiful and meaningful. That same week I got to sing in a concert for my friend Jeff
Jones, standing behind rock legends. I attended/spoke at four fancy gala events
including Women Against Gun Violenceand The American Red Cross. My friend Amy said to me yesterday, “I’m
exhausted from following you on facebook this month.” I laughed and said, “How
do you think I feel? I’ve been in Spanx and heels for a month!”

Recently a facebook friend posted that she wouldn’t post any
more pictures from her trip to paradise because she didn’t want to be
obnoxious, and I said- PLEASE KEEP POSTING. Yes, there are people suffering
terrible losses, losing jobs, reeling from depression. But for me, when I am down and I see
people posting about wonderful times, it reminds me what is possible, for all
of us. I find it so encouraging.

I posted a lot about my shitty month in March -- the funerals, the flood, the bugs, the ER trip --but I also
wanted to post about all the good things, and hopefully it isn’t annoying or
obnoxious to anyone, because my intent is to remind myself, and hopefully
remind my friends who are suffering, that good times lie ahead, even when you
can’t possibly imagine them.

I have lived through my Fire Season. I have walked through
my dark night of the soul, and I know when you are there, how hard it is to
find even the tiniest spark of light. If you are in a dark valley of your life, I
ask you to open yourself to LOVE and MIRACLES. Repeat it to yourself even when
you don’t believe it. Look for it every day, and notice the tiniest gifts…a
bird on your windowsill, a rainbow, a meaningful song on the radio. Those are
your stepping stones out of darkness. Open your heart to love and all the
goodness life has to offer. Receive it with open arms when it comes…

Saturday, April 18, 2015

As most of you know, I have a new book out
about how we lost everything in a fire. One of my favorite chapters in the book
is called “The Harvest.” It’s about how, when we were broke and homeless, our
community of musician friends rallied around us and put together a benefit
concert to lift us back on our feet. Hundreds of people showed up. When music and love intersect, it is an unbeatable force. It
lifted us up financially, yes, but more importantly, it lifted us spiritually.
In what was the ultimate “trust-fall,” we were caught, and held up by hundreds
of hands. We swore then that once we were stronger, we would return that
kindness, with every opportunity we got.

This is why my husband Troy and I are so happy to be part of
the Jammin’ for Jones band, raising money to lift our good friend Jeff back
onto his feet. Jeff is an incredible singer/songwriter/musician. His songs have
been covered by Stephen Bishop, Art Garfunkel, and the band Alabama, to name a
few. Jeff is now suffering terribly with both MS and Parkinson’s. Jeff can no
longer sing, which crushes my heart. I melt for his singing voice.
Listen here:

Just before our house burned down in 1994, Troy and Jeff
were part of Stephen Bishop’s band, and had just toured Japan together. All Jeff
and Troy did on the road, aside from making great music, was laugh. At home
after the tour, the good times continued. Jeff can tell a story like nobody’s
business, and had us laughing in our living room until the wee hours of the
morning. Jeff is a good man with a huge heart, and so is Stephen. (Stephen has
shown up and donated performances for me on countless occasions- to support my
work with foster kids.) Stephen and Jeff have shared a close
friendship for over 40 years, and were even roommates for 16 years back in the
day. It has deeply touched my heart to watch Stephen work so hard to put this benefit
concert together to lift his best friend. He has also helped Jeff to
release his first and only CD of his own. This is what true friendship looks like.

Stephen Bishop and Jeff Jones on the Midnight Special. I
love the shots of their faces singing together. Jeff looks about 16 years old.

This benefit concert for Jeff is one of the greatest labors
of love I’ve ever experienced. I so hope you will buy tickets to witness this
special evening, and tribute to Jeff. Bring some Kleenex. If you’re sentimental
like me, you’ll cry, in a good way.